Alt.Latino

11:36 am

Thu March 7, 2013

Guest DJ Gustavo Santaolalla

Argentine musician Gustavo Santaolalla has won two Academy Awards for Best Original Score for the films Brokeback Mountain and Babel.

Kevin WinterGetty Images

My literature professor in high school once shared a memory of growing up in the Argentine dictatorship that stuck with me: She recalled buying an AC/DC album as a teenager in the '70s, going into her basement with her friends, unwrapping the album and rocking out to the record at the lowest possible volume, so that none of the neighbors or passersby would find out what they were listening to. English-language music, particularly rock 'n' roll, was frowned upon by the military junta, and many were detained (and disappeared) simply for participating in the counterculture.

The anecdote stuck with me for a number of reasons. The image of a group of teenagers playing air guitar to a slight whisper of music seems to me like a very powerful statement about repression, the power of music and cultural defiance. It was in this environment that Argentine musician Gustavo Santaolalla began his musical career with the band Arco Iris. His love and commitment to music must have been strong: As he shares in this week's Alt.Latino, he was arrested and harassed by the authorities numerous times until, fed up, he finally left the country. Arco Iris has since become recognized as a pioneer in Latin rock.

Santaolalla's career only moved uphill from there. He went on to produce albums that became the canon of Latin rock, for artists such as Molotov, Maldita Vecindad, Café Tacvba, Calle 13 and Bersuit Vergarabat. His own work as an artist with groups like Bajofondo won him accolades, but he's best known in many circles for his soundtracks: The Motorcycle Diaries, plus the Oscar-winning scores for Brokeback Mountain and Babel. His work has remained exceptional, yet incredibly varied, as he's incorporated influences from across Latin America, Africa and East Asia. With Santaolalla, you never know what you're going to get, but you know it'll be something great.

One other reason that my high-school teacher's anecdote struck me as odd was that, by the time she told us the story, the dictatorship had fallen. It was a horrible memory, and for some an open wound. The sociopolitical reality in which I grew up in Argentina was problematic, but still so different: Where others had tiptoed in the past, here I was, a teenager, wearing my rock 'n' roll band T-shirt, reading whatever books I wanted to read and listening to whatever music I wanted to listen to, at whatever volume I chose (as long as my parents agreed). Much of that music was the brilliant creations of Gustavo Santaolalla.

Here's to blasting the music, to those who still have to listen quietly out of fear, and to celebrating an artist who always refused to turn the volume down on his beliefs.